


Sing//Scream

by Stewpoot



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Fantasy, I will put trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters if I feel they need them, Minor Character Death, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Science Fiction & Fantasy, Slow Build, Smoking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-27 12:30:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15685467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stewpoot/pseuds/Stewpoot
Summary: Fantasy AU I came up with back in July.Made possible with the help of friends from discord and Instagram!In the year 1998, Humans and Magical Folk have fought to exist for millennia where Magical Beings, dubbed Supernaturals by the Humans, are discriminated against and feared. The young Stuart Pot suddenly finds himself thrown into their dangerous, magical world.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to this story! Just a few pointers for people who are new to reading: some stuff in this story isn't going to be exact to mythology as much as I try to make it. I have to work around different aspects to fit it all together nicely. So I apologise if I annoy any diehard mythology fans out there!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it as much as I have been writing it and if you want to give any tips feel free!

20-year-old Stuart Pot lived a normal life in his hometown of Crawley on the wonderful rainy island called the UK. He had a job at the local music store, being able to play keyboards all day and sing to his customers. At night he sometimes found himself down the local pub, singing on open mic nights to a varied audience in a wide range of styles.

The Landlord would give him a wad of cash for always bringing and keeping the customers in, but that didn’t matter to him. What did matter to him was the fact he could do what he liked, and whatever came after involved buying a few too many packets of cigarettes and renting out a couple films from his local blockbuster. 

You could say his life was good. 

One morning on a particularly muggy summer's day he sat at the kitchen table, his pale blue eyes transfixed on the small television perched on the counter. A newsreel illuminated over the screen, showing a woman in her late 30's spill off the news of the past week. 

_“A local man donates 3000 pounds towards the homeless”_

_“Plans to build a new housing estate approved much to the anguish of the locals!”_

_“Agents from the Supernatural Police Department have been spotted in greater London. They have been investigating a possible breach of safety involving a rogue SP. A spokesperson is telling us the situation is under control but if you do see any unusual or supernatural activity please be sure to give this number a call”_

A number flashed on screen briefly before disappearing. The News Reporter carried on with various other stories as Stuart's mother, Rachel, placed a plate down in front him. It was full of bacon, eggs, and beans with a piece of toast that was just right and by just right it was almost burnt. He loved the taste, however, had done since he was younger. His mum didn't care really, she just wanted to make sure he ate and was healthy. 

"Ah, fanks mum” He spoke softly; his thoughts were still with the News about the SPD. He had always had a fascination with the Supernatural, or the Magic Folk as they were also known as. It had all started when he was younger and out camping with his family. The forest was dark and eerie, a cool breeze tickled his skin as he wandered further and further away from the designated safe area. At only 11 years old he was mischievous and a little bit cheeky. So as the curious young Stuart skipped through the forest, kicking up leaves and dirt with his white trainers, he came across the coolest looking tree on the planet. That’s what he could comprehend at that age and wasted no time in beginning to climb it. 

The ancient tree had winding branches that twisted and snaked past each other as they grew out, giving him a good path to climb. It was speckled with beautiful emerald green leaves that seemed to almost glint as they swayed in the cool breeze. Reaching for a branch above his head he could see the patterns of knots and scars etched into the aged wood, but that didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to climb and feel free and feel that breeze through his ashy brown hair. 

A smile was plastered on his face as he took perch on one of the twisting branches. It was almost as if it was shaped like a seat for him to specifically sit in. He still had a way to climb, but the rise and fall of his chest proved he was tiring quicker than anticipated. So he sat quietly, listening to the tree whisper to him quietly. 

But he didn’t hear his parents call in the distance. 

When had he closed his eyes? He couldn’t remember but when he did open them he felt energised yet content and calm at the same time, as if he was made for this tree and he never, ever wanted to leave. His calloused, young hands felt the rough bark as he let out a happy sigh. In front of him, through the mess of the branches, he could have sworn he saw something spark slightly. He quickly rubbed his eyes, staring at that spot and he saw it again! It was a small spark of light that danced from branch to branch quickly, getting closer to him with each flutter. 

“Ello?” His childish voice called out towards the dancing light, only to be greeted with silence. He blinked a few times, thinking he was imagining things but the sparks still drew close. It stopped short of him, maybe one or two branches, if only he could reach out for it. 

And that was what he did, he reached out. One hand gripped a gnarled branch as the other was outstretched before him and his feet were planted firmly in a small crook between two other branches just below. 

“Ello, my name's Stuart,” He whispered, grasping towards the light. He could have sworn he heard a giggle. “But you can call me Stu” 

The light giggled again, this time louder, causing Stuart to giggle back at it. The light drew closer, almost within his reach and that was when he discovered it was a very, very small girl. He was in awe and surprised and full of wonder all at the same time. 

“A… A Faerie?” Stuart smiled as the girl landed in his hand, sprinkling glowing dust everywhere. She smiled and batted her lids, fluttering her beautiful golden wings as she did so. She was dressed in small golden dress that looked like it was made of thousands of glowing crystals, it swayed as she moved, catching the light almost strikingly. 

"Nice to meet you, Stuart!" She laughed, her cheeks turning a little bit pink. 

Stuart watched as she danced in his hand, unsure of the calling of his name in the distance growing louder with each time she giggled and told him things about her sisters and family. He didn't want her to go at all, he felt warm and really happy like he could stay here forever. 

It was like he belonged. 

**“STUART!”**

His head shot towards the sound, the motion causing him to suddenly lose balance. The Faerie Girl had already disappeared in a flash of golden sparks and the next thing he knew he was falling. He was suddenly weightless as he plummeted down, his arms and legs hitting the branches as he did. He was surprised his head hadn’t been hit. 

That was his last thought before he crumpled on the ground in a heap. 

Then he woke up just as quickly with tears in his eyes and his family looming around him all trying to calm him down in their own separate ways. Deep inside he felt a budding warmth, but couldn’t place it, and he could see the distant outline of a golden girl but he couldn’t remember. 

He couldn’t remember. 

And his head hurt so much. 

“Hey sweetie how are you feeling?” His mum whispered softly, he hadn’t noticed her shutting the others up and before he could answer he was pulled into a large hug by her. She smelt of lavender and fresh cotton and he suddenly felt safe. His cheek brushed against a small jar pendant that hung around her neck. 

“’ead… ‘urts" He muttered quietly into her ear, his head feeling like a thousand elephants had run through it, over it, even stomped it into the ground a few times before reanimating it and stomping it back down to nothing again. His mum sighed into their hug. 

“You hit your head very hard sweetheart” Stuart felt those tears welling up again, threatening to spill over and soak her lovely cotton scented blouse. 

“Mum, I’m sorry” 

“Hush hush now, Stuart” She smiled as she pulled away but not without giving him a kiss on the forehead. “Can you tell me what you remember?” 

And boy did he try to remember. 

It hurt, trying to figure out what happened after you’ve just knocked yourself literally into the middle of next week. It hurt when the doctors told him he was going to have some permanent brain damage and headaches for the rest of his life. It hurt when he kept feeling this sense of belonging lingering within him, only for it to disappear when he tried to remember why. 

Then the doctors wanted to remove his bandages, revealing a perfectly bald head which prompted more tears from the young boy. His mum told him everything would be alright; that she loved him no matter what and that did calm him down for a while. 

Until a few weeks passed and he was stood in the bathroom, staring at his solemn expression where his cheeks seemed more sunken than usual, his skin seemed paler and his eyes were dusted with dark purple bags from lack of sleep. But that wasn’t what bothered him, what did bother him was the fact there was a small tuft of blue hair on his head. 

A few months passed in a dreary haze and he had a full head of, albeit short, bright azure blue hair. And it was one evening when he was playing on his keyboard he remembered the golden girl. He had almost crushed the can of soft drink in his hand when he remembered her dancing and fluttering. He remembered her sprinkling that golden dust over his palm as he laughed and giggled with her. 

After that, he became obsessed with the secretive Magic Folk that humans just so happened to hate and discriminate against. It was like a secret pleasure, that if his parents found out he’d get into severe trouble because the Magic Folk, the ‘Supernatural’, were not normal and were dangerous and they would kill you if they could. 

He didn’t believe that one bit.


	2. Chapter 2

So here he was, shovelling bacon into his mouth, going about his life in a good normal daze. A pill bottle was sat in front of him and when he had finished up his breakfast he popped two with his coffee and quickly ran upstairs to go brush his teeth and grab his uniform for work. When he came back down the kitchen table was clear and his dad was already outside in the shed tinkering with radios and other random electronics.

"Bye mum" He called out as he pulled on his shoes and darted to the front door. He heard her call back but accidentally closed the door on the sound of her voice so he just carried on jogging down the road, on his way to Uncle Norms Organ Emporium. He lit up a cigarette and slowed to a walk, taking in the lovely sunshine that had broken through the muggy clouds. By the time he had finished his cigarette the store was in front of him.

“Hiya Norm!" He announced as he entered the shop, the bell ringing as he opened and closed the door. He was greeted with the musty smell of old carpet and dust as he sidestepped around a few ancient looking keyboards and synths. Once he made his way to the front desk he set his bag down and made sure his name badge was pinned on straight.

Norman or Norm was hiding in the back. He was an older man, his age near fifty or so and was bald, slightly overweight and had a neckbeard which always seemed to make Stuart (Who was always cleanly shaven due to the shock of having blue facial hair) cringe. He walked out; well it was probably more accurate to say he waddled out from the back storage room to greet the 20-year-old with a rather annoyed sounding grunt.

“I need to go run a few errands, think you can hold down the store for an hour or 2?” His voice was gravelly as he spoke. Stuart nodded, smiling lopsidedly as the older man pulled out a cig pack, taking one and placing it between his lips. He chuckled briefly before heading out the door, leaving Stuart with his own company.

And like any other day, he immediately took the opportunity to jump onto one of the brand new synths to give it a try. As he played out a few tunes he slowly grew more confident and began to sing out random lyrics formulated in his head while the music coursed through his ears. His voice was delicate and smooth, but also deep and sombre and he could even sing in a piercing falsetto if he wished.

Playing the Synth and singing were his two best qualities and he loved them so much.

The bell rang as the door opened and shut and Stuart ceased his playing to greet the customer. It was a man in his 30s or so, looking very dumbfounded and lost. Stuart chuckled and got up; he introduced himself by his name and offered to help with anything around the store. But this man seemed in a trance until he blinked suddenly and locked eyes with Stuart who smiled feebly, his big blue eyes expectant of something.

“I err… I don’t know why I’m here” The man blurted and rushed to turn on his heel to exit the building. Stuart blinked a few times, thinking how this always happens. He chose to shrug it off, however, knowing this town is always full of drug addicts and that man was possibly one of them. So he seated himself back down at the keyboard and carried on creating his own songs till Uncle Norm returned.

\--

Stuart only had an hour left of his shift and Uncle Norm hadn't returned yet. It was also one of those days where hardly any customers came in so he found himself pacing a lot, thinking about that newsreel from that morning. He was surprised by a magical creature was spotted in the city. Usually, they hide and live secluded lives away from the prying eyes of humans, but who’s to tell if any random person on the street isn’t a magical being. He remembers a couple from his jog to work; they were pushing a pram with a child who probably wasn’t even a year old just yet. They could have been magical for all he knew.

With a sigh, he reached behind the counter for his packet of cigarettes and quickly popped it between his teeth as he exited out the front of the building. He pulled out a matchbox and lit the stick, taking a long drag on it as he did so. As the nicotine swirled in his head he made a small noise of contentment as he watched the pale orange sky. There were very few clouds now, but it was still muggy and warm and he felt sticky in his uniform – it wasn't long before he could go home and shower anyway.

Then, in a weird turn of events that made his head hurt, a police car pulled up in front of the building. Two officers stepped out, shutting their respective doors in unison and making their way towards the 20-year-old. Stuart gave a nod of acknowledgment and greets the officers, his ciggy hanging on his bottom lip.

“Hello, Officers, everyfin alrigh’”

The Officers greeted him with a firm handshake an introduced themselves.

“Good Afternoon, I’m Officer Albarn“ The man smiled as he pulled out a small notebook and pen from his chest pocket. “I have some Questions about, uh, Norman Smith?” This officer was an older man, maybe in his early 40’s or so with a slight stubble and shiny gold tooth.

“And I’m Detective Hewlett” The man with red tinted shades smiled.

“Yeh, what about ‘im?” Stu squinted his eyes slightly with suspicion. Why were the police here asking about Uncle Norm? And why wasn’t he back yet?

A bird fluttered in the distance, black against the orange sky. It cawed suddenly before disappearing from sight. The other officer, a man who seemed sort of gangly and held himself in a fluid way, watched the young male with a dazed look through his tinted shades. He exchanged a quick look with Officer Albarn when he began to talk again.  
“Well, there has been an incident not far from here and I’m not allowed to disclose any details just yet. But some witnesses are stating that this Norman Smith owns the local music shop. So, I’m going to ask again just to make sure you’re okay with it, may I ask some questions?”

When Office Albarn stopped talking Stuart’s head started swimming with thoughts, and it hurt. He scratched the back of his head and straightened himself, dropping the cigarette on the floor and stubbing it out under his foot. There has been an incident? Involving Uncle Norm?

He had so many questions.

“You might as well come in” Stuart calculated, opening the front door and letting the Officers in. Then he closed the door and flipped the open sign over. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing the blue mess off his forehead as he led them into the back room where a small table and chairs were placed. The two officers took their seats and Stuart chose to lean on the counter, fearing his headache might get worse if he sits.

“So what’s wrong with Uncle Norm?” He asked and his voice felt childish and hopeless in his throat. The detective with the tinted shades raised an eyebrow before opening his mouth to talk.

“I’m sorry, is he a relative?”

“No… Well, an old family friend, but no relation”

The two older men both sat back in their seats as Officer Albarn scribbled notes down rapidly.

"Have you noticed Mr. Norman Smith acting strangely at all?"

“No, but he does leave me running the store some days. He always says he has errands to run”

And after a million questions and answers and Stuart slowly succumbing to his headache the two Officers finally felt it was time to break the news to the young Stuart Pot.  
“This might come as a shock to you, son, but Norman was an SP, that’s short for the term Supernatural”

The 20-year-old held a gasp back as his eyes went wide and a cold sweat formed on his brow.

“I guess you understand what we mean?” Albarn questioned before being interrupted by Detective Hewlett. “He was identified as an Anthrophagi, a race of creatures that survive on the flesh of humans. He was somehow disguised as a human but his true appearance is enough to give you nightmares.”

Detective Hewlett spoke in an unusually positive tone. He pulled out a small briefcase, placing it on the table and punching in a code before flicking it open and placing an image down. Stuart shifted from leaning on the counter to placing his hands on the table and looking down at the photograph.

It was of a man with skin that looked like pale rubber and limbs that were disgustingly long, but the most striking part was the face. There was a lump where his head would be, but there were no features apart from the multiple bullet wounds that leaked a terrifyingly dark liquid. Instead, there was a large mouth on the chest of the monster, lined with rows of teeth that descended into a dark pit. And on his pecs were two black, beady eyes lined with red. Stuart gulped, feeling his head hurt even more and the blood rush from his face. That thing was disgusting.

“And… And that was Uncle Norm?” He stuttered out, pushing the photograph away quickly, much to the Detectives dismay.

"Yes, sadly" Albarn spoke suddenly, noticing the young 20-year-olds eyes well with tears. So many thoughts swirled in his head. He had worked here for 3 years now… 3 years with that cannibalistic beast. He could have been eaten alive! His chest felt tight and he tried to slow his rapid breathing.

“He killed a lot of people” Detective Hewlett smiled. “Now he’s not killing anymore”

Stuart Sniffed, unsure of what to make of this situation so he pulled out his packet of cigarettes again, took one out and lit it there in the building. He dragged shakily on it, hoping to calm his nerves while he studied the grey wall of peeling wallpaper. A Magical being, so close to him, yet he wasn’t even aware of it.

“I.. er… need to go home" He scratched his head and the two Officers stood up with solemn expressions, they understood he needed time to process what had happened. But what they didn't understand was the fact his head was in full-blown migraine mode and even walking to grab for his bags and the store keys caused him to wobble and his vision to blur. When they reached the front door Albarn and Hewlett said their goodbyes but not before quickly giving the young man his card in case there is anything else that happened or if he needed to chat. Stuart thanked them and they set off in their car, leaving Stuart at the side of the road.

“Fucking hell” He whispered, his hand running through his hair, gripping at the roots. He finished up his cigarette, dropping it casually onto the floor and crushing it under his shoe.

He began his walk home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Just to clarify, some magical creatures/ people can transform themselves to look like ordinary humans.
> 
> An anthropophage or anthropophagus was a member of a mythical race of cannibals described first by Herodotus in his Histories as androphagi ("man-eaters"), and later by other authors, including the playwright William Shakespeare. The word first appears in English around 1552.
> 
> There is also a thing called a Blemmyes, also know as Headless Men which Norm was also based on.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed.   
> Feedback is always lovely!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another flashback, story-building chapter.

When he got in the house his mum’s arms were immediately around him with a flurry of ‘Oh sweetie are you okay?’ and ‘I’m so glad you’re okay’. It was obvious that this incident had been broadcasted on the evening news.

“Yes mum, I’m fine, honestly…” He hushed, hugging her back. “I need me painkillers, where are they?” 

He trundled through the kitchen, the TV blaring out a live news report where a man stood in front of the camera, a mic in his hand as police cars flashed behind him. He sighed and opened the medicine cupboard, pulling out his pill bottle and popping 4 at once, hoping his mother hadn’t of seen. Then he exited the kitchen up to his room where he pulled his work uniform off and flopped back onto the bed. 

He really fancied a drink and a smoke. 

After finding he fell asleep for about an hour or so he pushed himself up, deciding that going down to his local pub to sing would calm him down from today's events. So he stood up, pulling on a pair of skinny blue jeans, a long-sleeved white top and his slightly fancier pair of white trainers. He grabbed for his packet of smokes, matchbox, and wallet, stuffing them into various jean pockets before running downstairs towards the front door. 

"Where are you going, sweetie?" His mum called out as he unlatched the door. 

“Gunna go sing fo’ a bit” He answered, shutting the door behind him and disappearing out into the almost night. The streetlights had turned on and the sky was darkening rapidly but still held a deep purple colour. A few clouds danced in the distance as he ran down various streets, scaring away various cats and nestling birds. A car whistled past him, his blue eyes illuminated in the headlights as he crossed the road towards the Royal Oak, a beautiful white building that showed its age well. 

He entered the building, finding the landlord greeting him almost suddenly and offering a drink on the house. Stuart accepted, stating that he wanted to sing tonight and that he was sorry for such a last minute decision. The landlord chuckled and said it was fine, that the locals here loved his voice. And so with a gulp of his beer, he began to set up the mic quickly, making sure it was all working perfectly. 

He had been attending this pub for maybe a year or so now. It had started out as him playing the keyboard for other singers or local bands but it soon evolved into his own singing. He knew he could sing, but it was only when he was at home or in the shower. It was never in front of people; for starters, he was an anxiety-ridden teenager at the time and the thought of singing in front of people terrified him. But he soon learned that a couple pints and a bit of pill popping would loosen him up and take the edge off. 

When he first sang it was a normal day in May, about a week before his birthday, where it was overcast and a bit cooler than normal for that time of year. The landlord, Terry, a man in his 60’s was hosting a talent show kind of thing, trying to bring more people down to the Royal Oak he had later told Stuart. So anyways, Stuart decided to bite the bullet and get up on stage for the first time in front of a bunch of middle age people to sing songs from the 80’s and early 90’s. 

It was when he was singing out the lyrics of Boys don't cry by The Cure he really had the crowd going. He could feel the emotions in the room and it gave him a power he had never felt before as if something had awoken inside him. So as he belted the lyrics, tears pricking in his eyes and the crowd singing along, pints in the air and cigarette smoke filling his lungs he felt at home. It was afterward when he had taken a seat at the bar that a group of girls approached him. They must've been in their late 20's and he was only 18 going on 19 at the time. 

“Wow, your voice is really good!” One girl jabbed him, causing him to flinch. He noticed her eyes were vacant and a large smile was painted on her face. Her friends had the same sort of stare as they circled him. 

“Uh, oh right, thank you” He muttered, taking a sip of his cider, watching them carefully as they watched him. One of them reached out, placing a hand on his bicep, that same wide smile on her face as she leaned closer. Her eyes looked empty, lost and unblinking and Stuart at that age had no idea what to do because no girl had ever acknowledged him before. 

“I uh, I mean… uh…” He stammered, fiddling with his fingers as he repeatedly glanced at her hand and back up to her eyes. She leaned in closer and closer until her lips were almost ghosting his and that was when he jumped up, knocking over his pint in the process with a small yelp. 

The girl frowned at him and then suddenly blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance. Colour flooded back into her cheeks and the wide smile was gone, her lips were formed in a tight line. 

"Huh, what? Where am I?" She whispered, looking around the pub quickly before looking back at Stuart who was biting his lip carefully. "And who the fuck are you?” 

“Uhhh, I’m sorry, I mean I’m Stuart, sorry” He glanced around the pub, looking for a quick exit. Her friends had all lost their vacant stares and looked nastily at him and he wasn’t willing to stay around for a fight. So he clocked the exit with his eyes and made a break for it, running as fast as his long legs would take him, much to the dismay of the other pub goers who he bumped into as he left. 

While running across the street, his feet tripping slightly as he jumped down the curb and back up the other, he could hear the girls screaming at him. With a quick glance backward he could see them standing out the front of the building, screaming insults. The feeling of the wind rushing past him cooled his awkward nerves as he slowly came to a stop near a grassy park. Slumping down at the base of a tree he pulled out a cigarette and smoked it angrily, wishing he wasn’t such a stupid idiot. 

Those vacant stares, however, wouldn’t leave his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I encourage you guys to leave comments, I wanna hear what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for blood and gore.

Now in the present day of August 1998, he would get up on stage without any qualms and if anyone gave him that trance-like vacant stare he would typically leave the area. Who would've thought that tonight, everything would change?

Singing was like a second nature to him, he knew how to get the right notes, and he knew how to take the right breaths and the correct body positions to produce his perfect voice. The stage was his second home, the power he felt, the electricity running through his body was intoxicating and he craved for it like a junkie craved smack. He craved for the audience to approve of him, to make him feel welcome. He loved every minute it. 

While belting out the lyrics to a song by Queen he had the crowd under his thumb, egging them to sing along, to clap their hands to the beat. He clutched the mic, pulling a few awkward dance moves as well causing the crowd to laugh and cheer. The smile on his face was huge as sweat dripped down his forehead. He felt awesome. 

The lights went down and the music ceased and the crowd cheered loudly, pints shaking in the air, spilling their contents as they cheered for an encore. Stuart, who was out back at this point was quickly chugging some water and a few painkillers, listening to the crowd cheering him back on with a big smile on his face. They really like me, he thought, feeling giddy and high. 

“I guess one more song wouldn’t hurt” He muttered jogging over to the sound guy and asking him if it was okay. The sound guy, James, nodded a yes while playing with a bunch of sliders and dials on his mixer. Stuart chuckled and reached for one of the synthesizers, quickly checking it over before heading back out to the small stage. 

The crowd went nuts, chanting Stuart’s name. 

“Uh... Hey guys” He spoke into the mic, his accented voice a little bit squeaky. “I’ve got a special one that I’ve been writing for a while now and I want to share it with you” He lifted the synthesizer onto its stand giving a quick nod to James and he started playing a few notes, the crowd roared as loud as 50 people could. 

“It’s a bit of a sad one mind you” He laughed and a man ran out on stage to give him a stool. He took perch, the Synth sat in front of him as he played a few more notes, adjusting them slightly to have a slightly shimmery, sparkling tone. 

“This is Busted and Blue” 

He played out the first string of notes and the crowd became silent, swaying slightly with the music. Some people even flicked out their lighters up into the sky, swaying them with the beat. When Stuart’s voice sung out the crowd made a gathered “Wow” sound, causing Stuart to smile softly. 

_Where does it come from?_

_When everything was outside_

_Busted and blue_

By the end of the song half the crowd was crying and the other half stared in silence at him. A few had those vacant stares as well. He swallowed, stepping up and giving a quick bow before leaning into the mic and saying a short “Fank you very much, Royal Oak” 

The crowd broke out into cheers again as he scooped up the synth and took it off stage. As he set it down he noticed James lost in thought staring at his mixer. His arms were limp against his sides as a thin trickle of drool slipped out his mouth. 

"Hey, James?" Stuart whispered, reaching out to touch the other man's back. He rolled backward in his chair quickly, his head following suit and flopping back. His eyes were wide and empty and there were traces of a slight smile on his face. Stuart gulped, not again… This always happened when he sang, why does this always happen. 

Then slowly, James' eyes rolled and stared into Stuart's to which the 20-year-old slowly backed away. It was as if he was a zombie, a hypnotized zombie. Had he been hypnotizing these people with his voice all this time? A crash waked Stuart to his senses and he jumped as James pulled himself up, knocking over various bits of equipment on his table. His limbs were all wobbly and a small snarl-like smile graced his lips as he stumbled closer to Stuart. With a large bout of panic, Stuart turned on his heels and made a bolt for the back door where a girl stood, her head leaned forward and the same stare and smile. 

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

He needed to get out NOW 

Feeling panic rise within as his chest rose and fell with rapid anguished breaths he tried to make an escape but as his gangly legs took him towards the girl he tripped and landed with a crash on his knees, hearing a slight pop and a sudden wave of pain. He cried out as James suddenly had a hold of him the man’s grip tight on his shoulders as Stuart was pinned down. Whimpers left his mouth as he struggled against James who smiled like a sicko at the younger boy. The woman had now made her way, stumbling, to Stuart and was bent over him, a thin line of drool stringing from her mouth and onto his forehead as she leaned in further. 

When he felt their lips on him he wailed, struggling further until he suddenly slipped away, his eyesight falling into tunnel vision and his mind being locked in a cage. It was then that his body moved on its own accord. Panicked, he banged on the cage doors for help as the light grew darker and darker until nothing. 

It was like a blinding rage full of fear and hunger. He felt the hot liquid run down his chin and down his chest. His eyes black as the night as he hunched over the body, taking huge bites and shoveling god knows what into his mouth. It tasted so good, so good. He needed more… more. Standing up slowly he licked the blood from his fingers, wiping the rest on his jeans as he looked down at his victim, James, a mess on the floor and the unknown girl in a heap, her neck broken at a sickening angle. 

Stuart blinked slowly, his senses becoming flooded with the tangy smell of blood and when he came too all he could see was red. With a gasp he looked down at the body, tears in his eyes as he screamed out for help, His voice breaking and croaking with each cry. 

The door of the main pub room slammed open and a woman's voice screamed as a man called out to call the police. It was followed by a mass of screams and the sound of thundering feet as people called out "IT'S AN SP!" and "RUN! GET OUT NOW!" 

Stuart fell to the ground in a heap crying as he studied the chunks of flesh missing from James neck and stomach. An SP? He wasn't a Supernatural! He was a human, a human like his mum and dad, right? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been some time since the last chapter, didn't mean for that to happen really but hey.  
> I've got the next 4ish chapters done but still need to be edited so my next update will hopefully be next week at some point.  
> Anyways, as always, I encourage you to leave comments, I really wanna know what you guys are thinking of this story so far!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead.  
> TW: Blood, mentions of cannibalism?

Sirens echoed outside as the air grew thick and heavy. He stifled the sobs and wearily stood up and stumbled for the fire exit. He had to go, he had to leave, and he had to survive.

With speed he could never had imagined he ran back home. The pub was bathed in red and blue lights as he basically flew, he could never go back now. Not now he knew what he was, and he must’ve been one for a long time. 

All those times he sang, that man who came in where he worked and the most obvious one, the Faerie. He read somewhere that Faeries don’t typically show themselves to humans, but took a liking towards Magical folk, the Supernaturals. That’s why his parents didn’t want him wandering off. 

“Shit” He gasped as a car almost drove into him; he slid across the bonnet, looking like a madman with all the blood staining his mouth and front. The driver screamed, honking her horn and slamming on the breaks. 

Anyways he had much better things to worry about than some scared driver as he ran off again, his house was in sight now and he didn’t have much time. The sirens echoed loudly around the estate and a helicopter hovered overhead, its search light beaming down on the houses and luckily not on him. 

With a crash he burst through the door, much to his mother’s surprise as she took in her own son covered in the blood of another human. She froze on the spot and swallowed thickly at him while he shook violently, tears streaming down from his black eyes. 

“Mum” He sobbed and he barely heard the ‘oh sweetheart’ from her. She pulled him into a hug, not caring about the blood that soaked his shirt staining her blouse. 

“I’m not human!” He cried more, shaking in her hold as she petted his matted hair. 

“None of us are, darling” She whispered. “Come now” 

She pulled him upstairs quickly, practically throwing him in the shower. 

“Get clean, I’ll get you some clothes, you need to leave tonight if you want to survive” She whispered. He presumed his dad was asleep and he nodded, stripping quickly and turning the shower on, washing away the blood from his skin and hair. When he got out the shower there were a fresh pair of clothes stacked neatly outside the door and a small bag which he presumed was packed with more clothes and other essentials. For a brief moment he paused, staring down at the pile of clothes and he felt his heart swell. This was such a dangerous situation. 

The feeling of the steamy bathroom made his eyes sting and he sort of half stumbled over to the sink where he ran the faucet and splashed some cold water onto his face. It was then when he looked up and into the mirror he saw something terrifyingly wrong with his appearance. 

He held himself back from almost screaming the house down as he peered into the black, soulless pits that were his eyes. He blinked, and then he blinked again, hoping he could get rid of the colour change, but to no avail. With his index finger he slowly pulled down on his lower eyelid, revealing more black. With his hand now shaking he slowly withdrew his finger and leaned in further, searching for anything that could resemble a humans eye but nope, all he saw was a dark blood red where his iris would be, but that itself was such a dark colour it blended well with the black of his sclera. 

“Oh shit” He breathed, almost shaking just like his hands. 

Outside he could hear the Police cars going around the neighbourhood, their sirens loud and blaring as the helicopter buzzed above. His head hurt so much now it was almost blinding. So he quickly pulled on the outfit, black jeans, a striped jumper and a baseball cap as well as his underwear and socks. He made sure to grab a pair of sunglasses as well, and he exited the bathroom. 

“Sweetheart?” His mum whispered again, standing at the end of the landing her face sad in the low light. She held in her hands a small bottle that looked to be full of herbs and crystals and she forced it into his. 

“This is a protection spell, it can also mask your presence from people for a small amount of time if you keep quiet and don’t talk” Her voice was low, tainted with misery. 

“Mum, what am I?” He spoke in a hushed tone as he eyed the bottle; it was full of different types of flowers and various leaves and chips of beautiful purple crystal. His lip trembled softly as he pocketed it in his jeans. 

“I can’t tell you now, you need to leave. We will meet again when it is for safe for you sweetheart” 

She handed him his wallet as he picked up the bag and jacket and made his way down the stairs, quickly glancing in his bedroom for one last time before heading out. 

“Bye mum, thank you” He almost burst into tears again, but bit his lip and held them back. She waved him off as she shut the door. 

It was dark and the cars raced around outside, various men in white coats wandered the streets, shining their lights into house windows and gardens. The helicopter did circles overhead, shining its light into the various fields and parks that dotted Crawley. Stuart pulled his cap down and kept his head low as he walked towards the train station. 

As he made his way back onto the street with The Royal Oak he saw the amount of cars with their hypnotic blue flashing lights. There were about 7 police cars and 4 unusual armoured white vans with the letters SPD printed in bold black letters on the side. A crowd of normal police officers stood around as the pub was cordoned off. There were some other members as well, dressed in white coats with the letters SPD written on the backs. 

The Supernatural Police Department he thought, thinking that if they had got him who knows what they would’ve done. Is there a prison for people like him? Or do they just exterminate you? He didn’t want to find out that answer. What pressed further in his anxiety and headache ridden brain was his mother, she was obviously a Supernatural like him, but different? She never had the urge to sing, just the urge to heal others doing her job as a nurse. 

Did she have the power to heal and he had the power to sing people to their deaths? 

What a fucked up world. 

The searchlight from the helicopter shone down on him suddenly, making him freeze and suck in a pained breath. Then just as quickly it glided away and over the houses. He quickened his pace and made it past the pub in record time, surprised they didn’t notice him; maybe this jar really did work! He clutched it tight in his pocket, it almost felt warm to the touch and little did he know his mother was back at home holding a bottle almost exactly identical to her chest. 

Her sweet young boy, she hoped he would be safe as she murmured sweet nothings against the bottle. 

He smoked a cigarette as he neared the station, puffing on it with deep breaths as if it took the edge off. His stomach felt weird as it gurgled and lurched inside of him, the thought of consuming human flesh toyed with his mind somewhat. He found it disgusting, he found it wrong… but it made him feel stronger. And the thought of the taste almost had him drooling. 

He crushed the cigarette underfoot with an audible sigh and clutched his bag closer to his chest as he walked onto the platform. The ticket booth was shut so he would have to wait to get on the train and pay. Shit. Did he have any money? He frantically pulled out his wallet and opened it up for it to be stuffed full of cash and a small note made of brown worn paper and a message written in black ink. He pulled it out between his thin fingers, studying carefully as if it could crumble in his grip. 

_“Stuart, I’m writing this as you shower and I know you have a lot of questions and we don’t have a lot of time. I am a witch, a magical being, a Supernatural as the humans call it. The magical blood runs through me, but not in your father. I had hoped it wasn’t passed down to you but I guess not. I’m sorry you had to find out the way you did, I truly am._

_I don’t know what you are or what you are capable of so where I am sending you will give you the answers you desire._

_Anyways, here is an address and some directions. You need to get there ASAP and you will be protected._

_Do not talk to anyone unless you have too._

_Mum”_

Stuart studied the address carefully, trying to memorise it, a place near the new forest, a pub of some kind. The closest station to it was Brockenhurst and the trains at this time were shite, he has to go up towards London and then back down South to Southampton before getting to Brockenhurst and then he still had a few miles to go. He didn’t want to leave, he wanted to stay here in Crawley with his shitty job with Uncle Norm and live with loving parents. 

But Uncle Norm was dead and his mum was a witch and nothing was going to be normal ever again. 

With another discontented sigh he began to stuff the note back into his wallet, but as he did it slowly crumbled between his fingers, giving away to nothing but dust that took off in the cool breeze of the night. He hoped his memory would hold out. 

Luckily there was still one more train towards London and he decided it was now or never as the helicopter hovered overhead. He had at least a five minute wait so he decided to smoke again and look through his bag to see what his mother had packed. Clothes, a first aid kit, bottles of water and some energy bars as well as his painkillers, 2 bottles to be exact, should last him about 6 months if he took them carefully. He knew he would have to come back to meet with his mother for more. 

As he continued to dig through his bag the tannoy went off, indicating his train was arriving. That was when he found a small leather bound journal. He flicked it open and inside was various recipes for different things - what he could only determine were spells, spells for purifying, cleansing, protection, luck and many more. 

The train thundered along the tracks, slowly screeching to a halt as the doors opened and some people got off and he jumped on, stuffing the book back into his bag. 

His train carriage was perfectly empty as he clambered aboard and took a seat in the back left corner. He pushed on his favourite pair of sunglasses after catching a glimpse of his dark stare reflected in the window. Then with a few moments of thought he pulled up the collars of his jacket and pushed his cap downwards as far as it could go without looking stupid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates are going to slow down a lot now.  
> Kinda got some writers block issues and I'm struggling to write the story how I want it.
> 
> Anyways, well done for getting this far!  
> Leave comments I LOVE them!


End file.
